


Once Upon a Broomstick

by GoldsJRZGirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Other, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 03:38:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7205654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldsJRZGirl/pseuds/GoldsJRZGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumplestiltskin's animated broomstick creates an unexpected attraction for Emma and some sexy times happen when Emma gets Bucky alone in her office. Kinky humor, sex, crack fic! Takes place in 4:4 "The Apprentice".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Upon a Broomstick

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt by some FB friends, not my normal offering. 
> 
> If this is not your cup of tea, please do not read!

Once Upon A Broomstick

 

 

***takes place during “The Apprentice” 4:4**

Once in awhile Rumplestiltskin was in a whimsical mood. That day was one of them, despite being ticked off at the stupidity of the pathetic pirate in thinking he could blackmail Gold for his missing hand. Hook didn’t seem to get the fact that _no one_ blackmailed the Dark One and didn’t pay a price. Rumplestiltskin was going to make the buccaneer pay in spades. Or rather, the pirate’s own nasty nature was. It had already begun, as Hook had acquired his hand and began to fall prey to his own arrogance, drunkenness, and bullying nature. Apparently the date with Sheriff Swan had not been the stuff dreams were made of. The pirate had returned to the shop and demanded Rumple remove the hand, babbling that it was cursed, and acting like Rumple was his lackey! Well, he’d set the arrogant boil on the backside of humanity straight, and quickly brokered a deal with him. A deal which would require no interference from Emma Swan.

Since part of Rumple’s mission was to find the elusive person called the Apprentice, and being in a somewhat nostalgic mood after watching _Fantasia_ with Belle the night before, Rumple indicated Hook was to go before him to search the houses along the docks, then conjured a walking broom on a whim.

The broom was roughly the size of a man, with blond bristles that served as feet and two hands made of cedar. The broom’s body was hickory, polished to a glistening finish.

As sometimes happened with certain spells of animation, the mood of the sorcerer infused the broom, and at the time Rumple was filled with nostalgia, whimsy, and a rather wicked longing for a certain librarian.

The broom strutted along behind him as they walked along the docks, mimicking the way

he used to walk in his leather pants. Rumple hadn’t intended to put that in there, but sometimes the magic had a will of its own.

Emma was just emerging from the Jolly Roger, having gone there to see if Hook wanted to eat some breakfast at Granny’s, the wind tousling her blond hair and causing it to blow into her eyes. She was wearing her usual red jacket and jeans.

When she had scraped her unruly mop back out of her face she discovered that a broomstick had begun ogling her. At least that’s what it _felt_ like.

Emma gaped as the broom walked about her, slightly cocked, and she could swear it was checking her out!

“What in _hell?”_ she muttered. While an animated broomstick was not such an incredible sight considering this was Storybrooke, where magic and fairy tales came true, the sheriff was nevertheless taken aback. Then she caught sight of Gold walking by, and frowned. “Gold, why is this broomstick . . . err . . .watching me?”

Rumple turned, his eyes gleaming in amusement. “Why, Miss Swan. I didn’t see you there.”

“Really? Have I become invisible?” she muttered.

To her shock, the broom waggled “no”. Then it reached out a hand and stroked her hair.

“Hey!” she cried, startled.

She backed up . . . and then felt the other hand pat her backside.

“ _Hey!”_ Both eyebrows went up. _Oh my God! Did this walking floor cleaner just cop a feel?_

The broom twirled about, doing pirouettes while the sheriff wasn’t sure if she ought to feel insulted or complimented.

“Gold, why is this broom . . . like this?”

“Hmm?” the sorcerer looked slightly distracted. “Oh, that? It’s just an . . . experiment of mine.”

The broom put both hands on its stick and wagged itself scoldingly. Clearly it didn’t like being referred to that way.

Rumple sighed. Animated items could be so touchy! “Oh, very well. I suppose you want an identity? Very well.” He gestured with a flourish. “Miss Swan, meet . . . . Bucky.”

“Bucky?”

“Yes, short for . . . Bucking Bronco. Because this broom used to be part of the brigade that swept out the stables,” Rumple improvised.

Bucky jumped up and down excitedly. Then it made a creditable bow to Emma.

Rumple bit back a snicker. “Why, Miss Swan! I do believe Bucky is . . . smitten with you.”  

“What?”

Rumple fought to keep from rolling his eyes. He’d forgotten he wasn’t dealing with Belle here. “Err . . . you know . . . he likes you,” he explained, hoping this time she would get the gist. Really, this was too funny . . . and too perfect!

Emma coughed. “Err . . . okay. Gold, have you seen Killian? I wanted to eat breakfast with him but he’s not on his ship.”

“I believe Hook is otherwise engaged, if you know what I mean,” Rumple waved a hand towards the rather decrepit houses. Let Emma make of that what she would.

The sheriff frowned and looked indignant. She wasn’t quite sure what Gold was implying . . . or rather she was upset that her immediate conclusion about what Killian was doing was less than favorable.

“Did he, uh say when he’d be back?”

“I’m afraid not. I didn’t speak to him, just saw him go by in a hurry,” Gold replied, thinking, your wicked reputation doth precede you, Captain!

Suddenly Bucky tapped Emma on the arm.    

She turned and saw the broomstick was holding a bouquet of wildflowers. “For me?”

Bucky nodded and held them out.

“How sweet!” she took them and giggled. It was odd, but the broomstick was starting to grow on her.

“Why don’t you take a stroll here with Bucky while you . . . wait for Hook to finish taking care of business?” Gold suggested.

Bucky began to tap dance across the dock, clearly infatuated.

Emma began to laugh at the broom’s antics.

“He seems to be quite taken with you,” Rumple observed. “If you’ll excuse me . . . I have to get back to my shop.” He winked at her. “Have fun, dearie! Ride him all day and then put him away. Oh, and don’t forget the sandpaper. You don’t want to get splinters.” He giggled and handed her some then turned and limped off down the dock in the direction of his shop, allowing the broom to continue its wooing, smirking roguishly.

Bucky capered back to Emma, who found herself oddly attracted to the polished wooden object with his glossy finish and silky bristles colored a golden wheat, like straw. He held out a hand, and she took it, and soon found him strutting along beside her.

Emma found the strut vastly amusing and the more she watched it and thought about how Hook had gone off to do God knew what with whoever, the more she found her throat growing dry as she imagined the broom in a set of leather pants.

She found herself walking past Hook’s ship and towards her office, where she could have some privacy. She caught the broom eyeing her again, and tossed her hair and asked, “Are you—checking me out?”

To her shock, Bucky nodded, then reached over to stroke her hair again. He clasped her hair to his shaft and spun about, twirling her hair until he was leaning against her, his hands splayed across her in a hug.

Emma felt her cheeks heat up. She was being . . . romanced by a broomstick! And she found that she didn’t mind it at all. Bucky seemed more considerate and more interested in her than her boyfriend at the moment. “Hey, why don’t we . . . uh . . . go inside?” she asked, her voice gone rather hoarse.

Bucky immediately twirled about, freeing himself from her embrace, then bowed and gestured for her to proceed him through the station door.

Emma did so, thinking this broomstick behaved more like a gentleman than a certain pirate!

She locked the office door behind them, then decided to turn on the radio. She fiddled with the dial and then “I’m Too Sexy” began blasting from the speakers.

Emma began bopping to the beat, but the effect it had on Bucky was electrifying.

The broomstick began to shake and shimmy, dancing all over the office. He grabbed Emma by the hand and began getting jiggy with her.

“Wow! You have some sense of rhythm and . . .” she gasped as the broom began rubbing against her.

“I’m too sexy for my shirt . . . too sexy . . .”                                      

The friction of the broom caused the sheriff to start getting more than a little hot under her jacket, then she threw it on the chair and thought, _If Hook can have a good time, the hell with him! So can I!_

She began doing the bump and grind about the desk, and Bucky grasped her by the waist and together they danced to “Shake Your Booty”, with the broomstick tapping her backside lightly as they spun in time to the music.

It was the most erotic thing Emma had ever felt better even than the time Hook had taken her sailing.

Her blue eyes smoky with desire, she clasped the broom to her and whispered seductively, “Bucky, babe . . . can I ride you all day and then put you away?”

The broomstick clasped his hands to himself and mimed a heart beating, then he collapsed into her arms.

Emma leaned over and placed a kiss where his mouth should have been.

Which prompted Bucky to leap up and begin rubbing up and down, up and down.

Emma was nearly driven mad with the sensations.

“More! More! Ooh damn you!” she groaned.

She wrapped her legs about the shaft and fell backwards onto the chair, panting and moaning.

“Yeah . . . right there . . . that’s it . . .”

The chair began to wobble and squeak as the sheriff commenced to ride the broomstick, her hair flying over her face. “Oh God!”

The broomstick began to gyrate and buck and Emma screamed, “Bucky, babe . . . you may be wooden but sure I’m your slave . . .”

The chair began to rock back and forth perilously on two legs, but neither Emma or the broom noticed, they were too busy learning new positions, discovering how a hard shaft becomes slippery when wet.

Meanwhile, the stereo was blasting out a new tune.

“Boom, boom, boom let’s go back to my room where we can do it all night, and you can make me feel right!”

_Yes, yes, YES! This is better than the time August and I had a one night stand in the hotel room . . .!_

Emma was sure she was going to die right there of pleasure.

Bucky seemed to know exactly how to ride—fast, slow, and everything inbetween.

“No wonder why they call you Bucking Bronco!” Emma squealed, just as the chair fell over with a thump.

But she barely noticed.                                                 

“Waahoo!” she yodeled.

Bucky, of course was silent, but that didn’t bother her. Silent and strong was best.

Unnoticed, Emma’s cell phone rang and rang.

Until Bucky’s flexible wooden hands found it and tossed it into a corner where it continued to buzz and vibrate as the chair scraped across the floor.

“You better knock, knock on wood!”

Just then the handle of the door rattled.

“Emma! Emma, are you in there, luv?” Hook called.

He could hear the radio blaring, something about knocking on wood, and he banged on the door.

“Emma!”

“Cap’n, maybe she’s gone out to lunch?” suggested Smee.

“Shut up, Smee! She’s gotta be here. Her car’s right outside!” argued Hook. “And I already checked the loft. Nobody was home.”

“Maybe she fell asleep?”

Hook groaned. If only the crocodile hadn’t kept him so late . . . He walked around the side of the building where the shades were raised slightly.

Then he put his eye to the window, trying to see whether the sheriff was inside snoozing.

“ ** _Bloody hell!”_**

“Cap’n? What’s the matter?”

“The . . . She . . . “ Hook stammered, his eyes almost falling from his head.

He dragged Smee over to the window and plastered his face against it.

Smee’s mouth gaped open so wide several flies flew in.

All that could be seen was Emma’s legs waving in the air . . . as she rode hard on a bucking broomstick.

"Oh, Bucky!" she moaned. "I could ride you all day and never put you away!"

“I don’t understand!” Hook wailed. “I was only an hour late!”

Smee patted him on the back. “Too bad, Cap’n.”

“Whaddya mean, too bad? I can win her back! I can! It’s a bloody broom!” Hook blustered, puffing out his chest.

Smee shook his head sadly. “Oh, Cap’n. You know what they say—once you’ve got wood, no man’s ever good!”

A frustrated Hook smacked Smee senseless. Then he stalked back into town. As he passed the library, he saw a drunken man sitting in front of it, crying over a card with a red queen on it.

“Quit blubbering, you bloody git!” Hook snarled.

The man glanced up, eyes red from crying. “My heart is broken because my True Love is gone.”

“Join the club!” Hook snorted, then he balled up his fist and smashed the drunk’s teeth in. Then, feeling somewhat better, he strode off to the pawnshop to find the crocodile and get his hook back.


End file.
